hyacinths (flowers of destruction)
by mannequinmen
Summary: draco starts throwing up flowers. purple hyacinths to be exact. he doesn't know how to stop it. / hanahaki drarry loosely set during the half-blood.


when draco had first laid eyes on harry potter he had seemed oddly familiar. admittedly, this was because a few days earlier draco had met the famous boy, in scruffy muggle clothing and slightly uneven glasses while having his robes fitted. the boy hadn't left much of an impression, but standing in front of the boy who glared at him and ignored his outstretched hand, the young malfoy was shocked and to be honest, hurt. while he had spun around and kept up his air of superiority and class, draco silently promised himself to hate harry potter regardless of what happened.

but hatred was hard when draco could feel his gaze falling on the spiky haired boy whenever they shared classes, and found himself seeking out potter in order to torment him or his unworthy friends. it was selfish pleasure that kept him nagging at the gryffindor and allowed his followers to laugh at them as well- the way potter's face would alight with anger kept draco satisfied, as long as he ignored the pang of self-loathing that came along every time he took the joke too far. the fixation on potter wasn't healthy and had never been so, but draco still found convincing himself to keep on potter's heels hadn't been difficult in the slightest.

in their second year harry had freed their house elf but draco could only feel relief when he saw harry at the feast that night, laughing with his friends and drinking pumpkin juice. he told himself it was purely because potter had done him a favour freeing the useless creature rather than have him clumsily attend to the malfoy's wishes, and not because potter's own skeleton could easily have been lying at the bottom of the castle. In their fourth year when the portkey lit up the outside of the maze, draco prayed to himself that the sudden lurch in his stomach wasn't because of the way he had lain beside diggory and how for an infinite second draco could have sworn he was dead. when harry had returned from the ministry with a broken expression and a haunting emptiness which seemed to engulf everyone around him in their fifth year, draco pleaded with himself that the prickling in this throat and his eyes wasn't because he was in love with the one goddamn harry potter. But he was. and draco could do nothing but watch from afar as their lives tore them apart for yet another summer, and draco had never hated the hogwarts express more.

when he was dragged to meet his aunt, he had flinched as bellatrix embraced him in a tight hug, giggling loudly at his frightened look. when his father had led him into a room and pushed him down to his knees, draco froze as he stared up at the monster tom riddle, an ugly smile twisting his lips and draco could feel his stomach drop as a wand was pulled from lucius' robe and pressed into riddle's hand. his sleeve was carelessly thrust down to reveal his open forearm and draco could feel something building in his chest. _no,_ draco had thought helplessly as the wand began to press down on his skin. _no,_ he had whispered as his skin began to burn red and then black, the lines curving over his skin in a way that could have almost been pretty if he hadn't been branded by the devil himself.

returning to school had been torture. his usual air of arrogance had almost been sickening easy to imitate, and potter's typical gimmicks had been easy to stop. staring down at the teenager, draco felt like laughing in a way. god, if only potter could simply return to london in this carriage it would save him from whatever storm draco was dragging along with the promises in his head and the weight on his arm. looking potter in the eyes, draco was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to throw up. racing from the carriage, he ran out to the station as he began to cough violently. he doubled over and began to choke, covering his lips with pale fingers. draco pried open his eyes and stared in horror at the tiny purple petals that dusted his fingers. no. no. nonononono. he opened his fingers and let them fall to the ground. draco felt like screaming, digging the backs of his hands into his eyes as he fought back his rising emotions. he had spent all summer desperately trying to destroy any lingering affection for harry fucking potter but it hadn't worked. of course it hadn't because fate was a sadist. Lifting himself from the pavement, draco lifted his head and felt his stomach drop as snape strode towards him, his black robes billowing around him as always.

"draco."

"professor." draco sneered back, clenching his hands into fists. he took a small step forward and crushed the flowers underfoot. a small flicker of recognition in snape's eyes had draco knowing that his movement had not gone unnoticed. neither spoke as the older man began to glide back towards the castle, and draco was left following with his head bowed, close behind.

the year seemed to drag by achingly slowly as each night draco stole into the room of requirement. he spent hours on end tinkering with the cabinet to no avail each time and it was beginning to take its toll. in the mirror his face had grown even paler, the sharp lines in his face more pronounced and his eyes had constant black shadows painted beneath them. his mother had once told him he was beautiful and draco had quietly preened under the affection, yet his face now only seemed haunting and empty. his temper had grown shorter and it was exhausting keeping up the pretence of caring at all about his subjects, especially as pansy fawned over him to try to twist his arm into helping her with her history essay. but the worst thing was the nights when stumbling back to the dungeons snape would appear from the corridor and take his arm and force a potion down his throat, bitter and burning hot. draco had hissed at the man the first time he had forced the drink down the youngers throat, but snape had simply raised his eyebrow and muttered, "for the flowers."

draco hadn't complained again.

but fate was indeed a bitch, draco had come to accept, for after years of chasing after potter like a lost puppy, the chosen one had seemed to pick up the habit. He followed draco around relentlessly and it made draco want to cry. If potter could stay away, maybe draco could keep him hidden from the dark lord that much longer. he knew it was an empty hope but he cradled it close to his heart, more desperate for the hope to bear fruit each night when the potion snape brewed to perfection still couldn't stop the hacking coughs that racked his thin body.

fuck. draco rushed into the bathroom blindly, a hand pressed to his mouth as he choked the rising petals back down. he had collapsed on his bed last evening, wrecked by his defence against the dark arts class that had made his arm itch horribly. potter hadn't let his gaze falter from draco for a second for the entire class and draco was tired of all of it. he'd passed out on his bed and slept until dawn, the vanishing cabinet remaining untouched for the night. draco had sleepily forgone the mistake and instead dragged himself along to classes, his messy hair and shadowed eyes keeping his slytherin friends away. he admittedly enjoyed the silence for the first time in a long time. but walking to his next class he had coughed hard, a single petal slipping from the corner of his mouth. cue panic, draco swallowed thickly and turned on the tap, letting the rushing water soothe his as he splashed the liquid on his face. staring up at his dishevelled appearance, draco nearly missed the other thin figure in the mirror. potter.

he spun around and shouted, his wand sending out a jinx which missed potter and smashed into the cubicle next to him. the exchanges between them were a blur as draco could feel himself growing lightheaded. suddenly potter- _harry_ \- was in his few, his wand raised and lips forming an unfamiliar spell. his emerald eyes glowed with such hatred that draco swore his heart stopped beating, until he bent over and the flowers came tumbling from his lips. the wave of petals was unending and torrent, draco's nails scrabbling at his throat as he tried to undo his collar. harry stood above him, staring down in horror as the flowers continued to pour from draco's frail form and he dropped to his knees, his hands pulling draco's from his neck and gripping his shoulders and the slytherin slumped forward, the last of the petals caught between his lips and he shuddered violently. harry pressed his warm body against draco's freezing one and draco's eyes slid closed. if he was doing to die, at least harry was close to him. a laugh spilled from his raw throat and harry shifted underneath him uncomfortably.

"malfoy?"

"shut up potter."

"why are you laughing?"

a smile curved up at the edge of draco's lips and he opened his dark eyes into harry's clear ones.

"because the universe is playing a joke on the both of us."

harry wandered back to the common room in a daze, flowers trapped between his fists as harry tried to figure out what had happened. he'd followed malfoy and it had spiralled out of control. they been duelling- fighting, harry corrected himself. there had been nothing decent about that fight. so they had paused for a second and harry had nearly uttered that odd curse scrawled in that tattered book, and draco had snapped. purple flowers had poured from his lips and harry hadn't known what to do. malfoy had seemed out of it afterwards, laughing and passing out in harry's arms and snape had come in running, his face grave as he wordlessly picked malfoy from his lap and carried him out of the bathroom, leaving harry on the cold, flooded tiles. hanahaki. the word echoed ominously in his head as he stumbled past the fat lady, mumbling the password. a disease of unrequited love. harry had known of it of course- rumours circulating the school weren't unusual but harry had never expected draco of all people, to be in love. perhaps it was cruel, but harry thought the boy was incapable of compassion or love.

but the flowers didn't lie. uncurling his hand, harry lifted the flowers to study them closely, picking a tiny full flower from his palm. it was pretty, deep purple tinged with white and harry was so invested in the plant he jumped as hermione spoke from behind him.

"harry? what are you doing?" she sounded honestly curious. harry turned and held the flowers out to her. "i.. found these." hermione plucked the flower from his hand and inspected it closely.

"it's a hyacinth, i think." hermione said. "i haven't seen these around the school. so where-"

"just outside. on the way to hagrid's."

hermione didn't question him, simply dropping the flower back in his hand.

"purple ones... if i remember correctly, they mean sorrow."

"sorrow?" harry replied, brows furrowed as he looked at the tiny flower again.

"and 'please forgive me.' 'i'm sorry.'"

harry felt oddly sick.


End file.
